


tell me where it hurts

by higgsburied



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst, Depression, Friendship, Ishimaru's emotional regulation issues are worse than we first thought, M/M, Miscommunication, Suicidal Ideation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:58:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/higgsburied/pseuds/higgsburied
Summary: Ishimaru and Mondo don't just start off on the wrong foot - they start off on the wrong page entirely. They're not even reading the same book.





	tell me where it hurts

He thinks about things he’d never tell his classmates. They don’t need to know. They’d view him as weak, if they did; unfit to do the things he’s supposed to, like watch over detention or deliver classwork to students who have missed (or skipped) their classes.

When he lets himself think about it for too long, he comes to the conclusion that they wouldn’t care, anyway.

People don’t talk to him past things that they need, and most people dread it when they have to. Only a handful of people are pleasant to him. It’s not something that he usually lets get to him – he knows he has more important things to spend his time on than worrying about what other people think. He tricks himself into believing that they’d thank him, one day, even if not in person; that by waking people up and nagging them for their homework and making them walk instead of run in the hallways will rub off on just one person. So he does it, even though he knows how everybody feels about him, what everybody thinks of him, and he’s never missed a step.

Until today. Now he’s sitting in the garden by himself, hands on his lap, staring at the ground. Only a few students ever come up here, and no one is right now. It’s just him, eyes unfocused and trying not to think about how he’s missing his next class.

Or maybe trying to concentrate on that. Trying to get up the motivation to go, instead of wondering something morbid, like if he’d manage to survive the fall if he threw himself down the stairs or out one of the classroom windows.

His fists curl tighter when he realizes he’s back at this topic again. He doesn’t tell his classmates he thinks about killing himself. He wouldn’t have anyone to tell, anyway.

He thinks about looking at his watch, at looking at how much time has passed. He’s never done this before, and he doesn’t want to get caught outside of class now, lose whatever standing he has for being here. He probably will, anyway, unless someone thinks to ask why he’s not here and _don’t go down that road, you know no one likes you enough to ask that. They probably don’t even notice you’re gone_.

His shoulders shake until he hears the door to the garden creaking open and he leaps up, feeling in his head unreal. He tries to walk around the back of the shed before whoever’s just come in sees him, but he guesses he’s not very subtle. He’s not used to sneaking around like this.

“There ya are. Been lookin’ around everywhere for you.” He can’t say he was expecting any voice to say that, but somehow he’d been expecting this one _less_. “You gonna say somethin’? Like what the hell you’re doin’ up here when we got class?”

He _doesn’t_ say anything. He doesn’t have an excuse. He didn’t think to make one up. He didn’t think he’d be asked, just – found and expelled immediately, or something. He’d only been worried about how he’d make it back to his room without getting caught, just assuming he’d go back tomorrow and act like everything was fine.

If he even went back.

“Look, man, I don’t care if you’re playin’ hooky. Although you playin’ hooky’s kinda weird -” He cuts himself off like he’s aware that what he’s said doesn’t totally make sense, and Kiyotaka can imagine him scratching the back of his head like he normally does.

He feels a weight on his shoulder and realizes Mondo is touching him.

It feels weird. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been touched before. “I just gotta know ‘cause if we’re skippin’ we gotta leave before classes change and someone comes in here –“

“You don’t have to pretend like you care about me.” It comes out before he even knows what he’s saying. He doesn’t even think the words he’s saying, they just sort of…happen. He feels his lips moving, like they’re pressing together too often.

“…What?”

It’s a bad idea, picking a fight with a gang leader. He can defend himself, he’s sure, because he’s done Kendo, but he’s never had to actually use it in a real-life situation and he’s sure Mondo’s been in worse fights and knows more dirty tricks than he does.

But he doesn’t want to feel numb, which is all he feels – or doesn’t – at the moment. “I said, you don’t have to pretend like you actually care about me.”

Mondo’s fingers tighten their grip around his shoulder and he can just tell, even with his back turned, that this classmate is furious. He’s not known for his good temper and if he doesn’t like being told what to do chances are good he also won’t like being told how he feels. Ishimaru’s muscles tighten, ready to be yelled at or get decked from behind, so he’s more than just a little surprised when the fingers actually loosen, except for the pads where the push in to force him to turn around.

He doesn’t look mad. Which actually makes Kiyotaka a little mad, because he can’t really tell what this face he’s making means. It’s like he’s trying and actually managing to read Ishimaru and the last thing he wants is someone’s pity – especially the pity of some hothead who goes out of his way to ignore him so much of the time.

“Right, we gotta get you cleaned up before we get back to class,” he grumbles. He grabs Ishimaru’s upper arm and starts dragging him from the garden, and Kiyotaka almost asks him who ‘we’ is before Mondo tugs him a little harder. “You don’t wanna get caught, do ya?”

He doesn’t really have an answer for that. Mondo apparently isn’t looking for one, because he doesn’t ask the question again. He just drags him, bodily, from the garden and out into the hallway, ushering him around the edges of classroom windows and timing it so the teachers don’t catch them walking by. “If anybody asks,” he mumbles, “You tell them you had ta come ‘n’ get me outta the garden from smoking.”

“But that’s not what happened,” Taka whispers back, in the lowest voice he can manage.

“I know that, you nutjob!” Mondo groans, “But nobody else does, and there’s no reason t’ ruin your reputation just ‘cause you got distracted.”

Kiyotaka stops him on a stairwell landing. “Is that…what you think happened?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Mondo says, looking at him, expression blank. “What else would it have been?”

Ishimaru feels himself choke as a sob tries to escape. Here it is – his nose starting to run, tears poking at the corners of his eyes. He could – he could just hug Mondo. He trusts him, to be a good student, even when that’s the last thing he is right now. And he feels so guilty, taking advantage like this.

“What the hell, man!” Mondo says in a rough whisper. “Knock it off, you want everyone to hear us?”

"It - It doesn't matter!" Kiyotaka wails. "Once they find out I've been skipping class, I'll be kicked out of school! My family will never speak to me again!"

"That's why we're gonna _lie_ ," Mondo hisses. "So keep yer voice down!"

"We're going to get caught," he continues, chewing on his nails. "There's no way they're going to believe I came to get you, no teacher sent for you -"

"They're not going to believe you if you keep talkin' like that," Mondo snaps. "Tell your damn anxiety to shut it for a half a second and give me a damn second to think -"

"Stop yelling at me!" Kiyotaka shouts

"Then stop freakin' out!" Mondo shouts back. "Damn, you can be real fuckin' annoying!"

“Then just leave me here! It doesn't matter, I'll probably kill myself soon anyway.”

He just blurts it out, and then freezes up. Half of him isn't expecting Mondo to react, to just ignore him or tell him to shut up again. He’s certainly not expecting the other student to stop in his tracks and whip his head around, horrified look plastered on his face.

“ _What?_ ” he asks, voice somehow both demanding and frightened.

It almost catches Ishimaru off guard. He doesn’t think Oowada will let him walk away without repeating himself. He can't unfreeze himself.

 _He won’t care. He won't care. He won't care_. “I said that it doesn't matter if I get kicked out of school. I know everybody hates me, and I'll probably kill myself soon anyway.” He manages to warm up enough to shrug at the end of it - an attempt at casual that's probably ruined by the tears streaking down his face. He turns around so he doesn’t have to wait for Oowada to figure out a response. 

But now it's awkward, and even though he doesn't know where he's going to go, he knows he can't stay here. He tries to move past Oowada and down the hall, figuring just like he had earlier that he'll know where he's going when he gets there.

Except he finds he’s being grabbed – not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make him stand still. “Man, you can’t just say shit like that and walk off! What the fuck did you mean by that?”

“I would think even you should understand,” he says, sounding more confident that he feels. “Eventually, I am going to kill myself, and then you can all be happier without me.” He manages to pull his arm away this time, trying again to get away. And again, finding himself unsuccessful.

"Aw no you don't, man, get back here! And tell me why you're actin' like this -"

“Why are you pretending to care?” Ishimaru snaps. “It’s very dishonest, suddenly pretending as if I mean anything to you –“

“Yeah, well, maybe you already did, you ever think of that?” Oowada snaps back, face red.

“What? All you ever do is antagonize me. Not even five minutes ago you called me - 'effing' annoying'.”

He fidgets, hands on his hips and trying to look away. He looks even more embarrassed than earlier. “Dammit,” he hisses, hand in his hair. “Listen, man, I ain’t good with this kinda shit, but I always thought it was like – I don’t know – friendly banter, or somethin’.”

His face is bright red. Ishimaru had seen him angry before, but always an anger with self-assured confidence. And he was sure he'd heard him lie, but this didn't sound like one of his lies. And the only response Taka can think of is to splutter, once again, “What?”

“I know we ain’t exactly best friends, but it don’t bother me that you always yell at me not to run in the halls. It’s like, tradition or somethin’.” He admits, still not looking at Ishimaru. It takes him a second, but he does manage to look up at him, cheeks still pink. “I didn’t know you took the shit I said so seriously, it ain’t like you don’t give as good as you get, so I thought we were just messin’ around.”

He looks genuinely confused. “Messing…around?”

Mondo gestures uselessly with his hands. “You know, like friends do."

“No, I don’t.” It’s not meant to be sarcastic, and Ishimaru can tell that it makes Mondo all the more uncomfortable. That he really means it, that he doesn’t know how friends interact.

“Well, sometimes, with your friends, you just kinda dick around with each other. Say shit you don’t really mean or swear at each other a bit,” he explains, squirming.

Taka’s brows furrow. “Why?”

“I- I don’t know, man! It’s just a thing we do,” he says, trying not to snap. “I do that shit with Leon all the time.” He watches as Taka thinks it over, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “So I thought, like, we were doin’ the same thing. I didn’t think it was really upsettin' ya. I’m not _that_ much of a dick.”

“So why didn’t you ever just do as I asked?" Ishimaru asks him. "I was only ever stating the school rules.”

“’Cause if I did that, you’d stop telling me what to do, and then I can’t pretend anymore like someone actually gives a shit!” He looks away from him, face bright red again.

It takes Ishimaru a minute to grasp what he’s just heard. “I beg your pardon?”

“My parents ain’t ever around, my brother’s dead and it’s my own god damn fault, so if you stop naggin’ me I can’t even pretend like someone gives a shit about me anymore. There, you fuckin’ happy?”

Ishimaru squirms. “Not particularly, no.” He stares even further down, eyes locked on his shoes. He breathes heavily, heartbeat echoing in his ears. “I am sorry, Oowada. I believe I have misjudged you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Title from the Garbage song of the same name.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FdhSfcYhzI)


End file.
